To be classifiable, she nervously applies the cake to her nostrils
While splinters stick in her fingertips. 30. To be a woman she
Harvests necrotic insects and dances in Warhol underpants.

I explain how gravity loves the catalogue of your unique hollywood
Romances. Each train takes a new storyline through the ****** treetops
And counterfeit addictions she poises herself in to seem attractive to
Each magazine under her daddy's workbench.

Being a woman is more than big ***** and paint for brains. Some skins Cling to the reels of the love language sprinting through historical Venetian street settings. I smoke ***** with wizards.

For the first time I witness the acatalepsy of the Irish, but narrowly
Passing the beguiling succor that renders the whim of persons
In the acronychal hours.

I'm telling you your hands are my new exoskeleton. I take to you
With the excitement of gravity. New denude photographs of pallor
Fleshes upstay the human trials we are blessed to share in this open sky,
Where I warn the blues of the sky to be jealous of these sciophilous Women who experience the unyielding pressure to feel the pleasures
Our confabulations offer acushla.

Two tangling tounges, where life's streams flow and run beyond the masterpiece brook. Acushla, where art thou? To ease me from prison time crooks?
Analgesic saliva tempers these soft healed wounds, where monkeys turn baboons into sackclothe bezoar poses!!!!
A betwixt of no selection,............///////////
Bilateral to street intersections, main arteries closed upon for clogging!
Heartfelt loggings are manuscript to billows binary made for two,   yet if you stay one , what's the fun in that?
Dog's to roam, cats to moan cog coindications separate to what Is....
Danderers are wildly sprung, shaved faces to bearded ones, are we all alone?
The defeasance of romance has left the gardens where blossoms are not alarming, yet few do grow there....